


Finding Family

by abyss1826



Series: Finding Family [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe, Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: ADHD, Angst, Bat Family, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Neglect, Court of Owls, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Haly's Circus, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Mental Illness, Nightmares, Origin Story, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romani Dick Grayson, Torture, Trauma, Young Dick Grayson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-07-16 09:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16082945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abyss1826/pseuds/abyss1826
Summary: After escaping Gotham's child protective services, Dick Grayson is determined to prove the murder of his parents. Taken in by a girl who calls herself Rhonda, he learns how to survive the city his father never felt safe in, and how to navigate its injustices.





	1. The Boy in the Alley

He had waited until after the funeral to leave. The home would notice he was gone if he hadn’t, but after that, there were too many boys for anyone to notice him missing, and Dick knew his caseworker would care nothing about his disappearance. 

He had been willing to think his mom’s lessons wouldn’t have to apply to him, but his misfortunes were clear. CPS would be no kinder to him than they had been to her. He would run just as she had, just as she had always instructed him to if he was taken away. He’d find another circus somewhere they wouldn’t find him, maybe return to Haly’s when he was too old for them to do anything about it.

Dick rolled over in the small double bed, a pillow clenched tight to his chest. It was empty and cold without them. The smell of home had gone stale, and the quiet was a stabbing reminder that there would be only an empty lot if he opened the door. The circus was gone. Their trailer was alone. He was alone. 

He had already put the things he wanted to keep with him in the bag Haley had hastily packed before he had been taken away. He was just stalling. As though sleeping in the bed they had shared his whole life would bring them back. As if he would wake up to the day it happened, able to tell Haley, save them, anything.

The pillowcase was wet against his cheeks as he drifted into fretful sleep.

 

Getting around Gotham was easier than he thought it would be. It was a Saturday, and even then enough kids in the city didn’t go to school where he had been hiding, keeping out of sight.

Police and Batman were the clearest threats, if any of them recognized him he’d be sent back the home, they’d make it harder for him to run again. Anyone else who recognized him, though, would be far more dangerous. 

The older boy he had been sharing a bunk with had laughed at him when he told him that it hadn’t been an accident, that he would get out and prove it.

_ “Those men’ll have you killed just the fucking same, and no one will know it.” _

The words echoed in his head whenever he made eye contact with someone. He couldn’t remember the word for how he felt in English, what his dad had called his mom whenever she taught him ways to escape custody, ways to defend himself, ways to survive on his own, things she had had to learn herself when she wasn’t many years older than he was now.

He stiffened as he heard a door open.

“You good, kid?” a voice asked, bouncing off of the brick alleyway. “We don’t really throw out food, here,” she continued, “I can get you some leftovers if ya want.”

He didn’t move. 

“Listen,” the heavy door closed, and the taller girl threw a black bag into the dumpster he was holding open, “You can watch me and everything. No tricks. No names, even, if you don’t want. I’m the only one in the kitchen and Granny doesn’t care when I bring in stragglers much anyway.” Dick looked at her. She seemed genuine, familiar with the dangers of stranger’s help his mom had told him about. 

His stomach growled, and he figured he’d take his chances.

She smiled when he nodded at her and lead him into the back of the small Polish restaurant kitchen. She had short, tightly curled brown hair pulled back with a headband excluding her bangs, and a denim jacket like a dress.

Dick was pleased to see her wash her hands before touching any food, since she had just taken out the garbage. She filled a plate with potato dumplings and sausage before a stooped old woman bustled through the kitchen doors and saw him. Dick backed up quickly towards the door when they made eye contact, but the girl put her hand up for him to wait. 

The two exchanged words he didn’t know before she went back into the restaurant. The look she had given him made him uncomfortable, like she knew his face.

“No problems, the guys are just gonna be doing business in a half hour, so we’ll have to be quiet and stay upstairs,” the girl told him. “Name’s Rhonda, by the way.” She handed him the plate. As Dick wondered over what she had said she made another plate of food and grabbed them utensils.

“Our rooms’ this way,” she said eventually, leading him up a small staircase near the back door and into a distressed looking apartment. The walls were cracked and peeling, and shadows were harsh in the light of the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Several of the kitchen cabinets were without doors, and the only furniture in the adjacent living room was a folding table and chairs. She put a stack of notebooks on the floor so Dick had a place to eat with her. He looked over at the two doors, expecting another person to come out, but no one did.

“W- I live alone,” she said, noticing. 

“Oh.” For a moment the only sound was of the clinks against the plates. He tried not to eat too quickly since it had been a couple of days, but it was difficult.

“You have a name?” Rhonda asked, looking up at him with a dumpling stuffed in her cheek. 

“Dick,” he said eventually, staring down. He didn’t see the grim expression that flashed across her face.

“Ran away?” she asked. He nodded. “You could stay here a bit, they won’t find you.” Dick looked at her with a frown. “That’s how I stay hid,” she grinned. “I cook here and stay here for it, boss doesn’t care.”

“Boss?”

“This place is a front for Dent’s gang, so it’s not the best, but if you stay out of it there’s no trouble. Can’t really avoid them in this side of life, but it’s not Zucco.” Dick tensed, looking at her with wide eyes.

“You-”

“-You’d get into a lotta trouble in the wrong part a town,” she stated ambiguously. “I’d rather not see a kid in that kind of trouble when I can help it.”

“You just… want me to live with you?”

“No catches, just stay invisible and don’t cause trouble and you’ll get a safe place to be and a roof over your head. Deal?”

“I don’t have much of a choice…”

“Well, you could keep on the streets until his men eventually find you without cover.”

“Why are you trying to help me?”

Rhonda shrugged.

“You’re not the only kid I’ve done this for. Most leave after a couple days or weeks. We got lucky finding this place, and others need that luck too. You in or nah?”

“Is it really what’s safest?”

“You wanna be dead in a ditch?”

“No…”

“Then yeah, it is. Welcome to Gotham, Kiddo.”


	2. The Two Faces

“You wanna shower?” Rhonda asked him when his plate was empty. “I’ll do dishes downstairs, you can use the stuff and put your bag in our room.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly, frowning to himself as she got up and gathered their dishes. She kept using… plural pronouns, or almost using them. He didn’t know Polish, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t that kind of mistake, like how he structured his english sentences wrong sometimes. He pushed the knobless bedroom door open cautiously, almost expecting another person to be in there. There wasn’t. The room had a green table lamp on the floor, next to a twin mattress set up from the floor on a small stack of wooden pallets. There was a duffle bag at the foot of the bed, and a broken dresser haphazardly scattered with books. Dick put his backpack down next to the bag and went into the bathroom to shower. Rhonda’s shampoo smelled like apples.

When he was dressed again Rhonda was still downstairs, so he looked in the cabinets for a cup so he could get water. He caught sight of a bunch of sticky notes stuck to the fridge instead. There were two different colors of pen, a dark blue and a purple, and the handwriting looked different. Dick wondered where the second person was. Were they the old woman? There was only one bed, but he had shared a bed with his parents his whole life, so he figured they might do the same…. He read the notes, wondering why Rhonda hadn’t told him about the other person living with her.

**Sewing class at the library tuesday, GO or ELSE** was written in the blue ink.

_ Why don’t you go if you’re so interested >:/ _ the purple replied under it. That was the end of the note. Another one in purple stated that they didn’t like the strawberry yogurt, and that the other should finish it. Another purple note told blue to finish reading their books because they were due soon. A torn out notebook page taped in the center looked like a grocery list.

Dick giggled as he read it. The two didn’t seem to agree on what to get. Yogurt flavors looked contested, purple crossing out strawberry and putting peach and blue crossing that out and replacing it with raspberry, paired with a frowny face. Vitamins were also on the table, purple demanding them to be gummy ones.

He wondered why they left each other notes instead of talking. 

Dick turned away from the fridge and found a plastic cup. The faucet had a large filter on it, so he turned it on. The word ‘safe’ flashed on its side for a moment, which was a good thing, but he didn’t understand why that was necessary. He heard Rhonda coming back up the stairs, so he asked her.

“Oh that’s just ‘cuz our local freaks like to put toxic shit in the water sometimes, so Wayne Tech’s got a free system so we don’t. Die or go more crazy or whatever Joker or ‘Crow felt like doing whenever it happens.” She raised her eyebrows at the angry look Dick had at the mention of the Joker.

“He’s not even a real clown.” Rhonda snorted. “He’s a disgrace to the act! Haley couldn't even have anyone wearing makeup here because of him!”

“Jee kid, you’re like, legit pissed about this.”

“Of course I am! I bet he’s never even met a real clown.”

“Well if he ever kidnaps you you can yell at him for it,” she she smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Why would that happen?”

“Eh,” she shrugged, “people get caught up in all kinds of shit no matter what part of town you’re from.”

“Oh. That’s bad.”

“Yep.”

In the corner of the room a red lamp flickered on and off. 

“We gotta be quiet now,” Rhonda whispered, “They’re doing business down there.”

“What do we do?” She put her finger to her lips, so he whispered quieter. “Do you just stand here?”

“I usually read or keep my journal, that’s quiet. You know how to write?”

“Yeah?” Dick frowned, offended.

“It might help you to write about yourself and… ya’ know… things that have happened, mom told me to do it a few years ago maybe, it helps. I have a spare notebook you can use.” She tiptoed to the pile she had taken off of the table so he could eat and grabbed the second in the stack. “I haven’t had to use it yet, you can have it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, she gives me them whenever I run into her or need something, it’s fine.”

“O-okay.” Rhonda took a black pen out of a pocket in her too-large jacket and handed it to him. “You should write the dates, too, so you know when things happened.” Dick nodded, and sat quietly at the table while she went into the bedroom. He was contemplating whether or not he should write his name in it when she came back with a worn notebook of her own to write in.

They sat quietly in the background mutterings of the men making deals downstairs. It sounded too much like what Dick heard from Haley’s office their first day in Gotham. He glanced up just enough to notice that Rhonda was staring at him. Realizing this, she quietly spoke up.

“You're new to Gotham, right? I can show you all the ways to get around the city unseen tonight.”

“Won’t Batman be out?”

“Yeah, but I mean. He’s kinda easy to avoid with all the cape and grappling gun noises. Besides, he’s seen me before, it’d be easy to hide you and keep him thinking I’m out there alone like usual.”

“He doesn’t get mad at you?”

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” she shrugged. “He just tells me to go to bed and stay out of trouble.”

“Really?” Dick giggled. She smiled and shrugged.

“He ain’t bad til’ you’re a criminal, and I just work here.”

 

When the red lamp flashed again, Rhonda told him they were in the clear. But then the stairs creaked, and she shoved him into the bedroom and pulled the door shut.

She was sitting back at the table once the door opened. 

Dick saw a tall man that looked about Mr. Wayne’s age through the hole where the doorknob would have been.

“Rhonda today, huh?” He spoke casually.

“Like usual,” she replied. “Saturday already?”

“Don’t play dumb,” the man chuckled, pulling a clip of bills out of his pocket and tossing it to her. She nodded, and tossed the clip back after taking out the money. “Any trouble around here?”

“Nope. All good. Gran’d tell you if there was something up anyway,” she chuckled.

“‘A’right then,” he said, pulling open the door. “Don’t spend it all in one place.” She snorted.

“Sure Jack.”

She sat still until his footsteps left the stairway before she motioned for Dick to come out.

“Who was that?” he whispered.

“Jack, he manages this front. I get paid saturdays.” She got up and walked into the bedroom, Dick tailing her. She put the money away in the bag at the foot of the mattress. “It’d probably be best to not let him see you.”

 

The first time Rhonda let him out with her was that night, and over the next two he had learned the city and the different gang territories by heart, sans Zucco’s. She didn’t chance taking him there, opting to show him maps from a Gotham History book she got for him at the library. They had run into the Bat twice, but every time she had shoved him behind something before he had even noticed the man coming. 

“Why did he call you ‘kid’?” Dick asked the fourth night. She had told the vigilante that getting groceries was safer by roof, which was true at night.

“Well it’s not like I’m an adult.” Dick paused, confused; she had a job and lived without her parents and was clearly older than him.

“You're not?”

“No, I'm uh… fourteen…? Yeah.” He was surprised. They stood on the rooftop for a moment. He felt watched. They heard the crackling rustle of feathers before the creature landed on him, talons digging deep holes into the meat of his shoulder. He screamed. They both did. Like a switch had been flipped he saw Rhonda tear a rusty metal laundry line pole from the ground and rush towards him, beating the creature off of him. It jerked him around as she fought it, and in the numbing haze of pain he thought he saw her pull a knife. Or the thing on him did. He felt sick. He felt the talons lose their grip. He felt them tear away. He was vaguely aware of Rhonda berzerkeley beating a feathered humanoid to a pulp in his peripheral as he lay on the floor. He rolled to his side and puked.

“It's okay, you're okay, he'll be okay,” he heard, muffled by the ringing in his ears, followed by a string of curses. He thought that weird. He'd never heard Rhonda swear before. He was hoisted up into her arms. “We’re gonna take you to Leslie's okay? She'll fix you up.” He didn't know why, but her voice sounded a little different. Lower almost, with more of the accent he'd heard from people in New Jersey than he remembered. They turned. “Son if a bitch,” he heard her mutter, and opened his eyes as she started to run. He made out the Bat's silhouette in the light of the city, and the bloody heap of feathers on the ground.

Dick hadn't realized he'd passed out until he woke up in a hospital bed.

“Hey Dickie.” He blinked slowly and looked over to see Rhonda hunched over in a chair next to him, elbows on her knees. He stared at her, trying to figure out why she looked different. Her denim jacket was tied around her waist and her curly hair was up, the red headband she always wore pulling back her bangs. She always kept the jacket on, and kept her bangs out. “You feel alright?” He wasn't sure. “Hey.”

“I dunno,” he answered tiredly.

“Does your shoulder hurt?” It ached.

“A little.”

“I'll go tell Doc, sit tight okay?” She got up and left the small room. Dick wasn't sure what else Rhonda thought he would do. He tested his shoulder by shifting it slightly. It was bandaged, in a sling, and he could feel what he assumed were stitches or something pull if he moved a certain way. He stopped and stared at the ceiling, wondering what had happened. Why. Rhonda came back, walking briskly and putting a had under his back, sitting him up.

“We need to go,  _ now _ .”

“What?”

“Bat's here, he's waiting for you,” she hoisted him up and started running. It took him a moment to understand. He would be taken to the police, back to that place, to rot until he was 18 like his case worker wanted. He tucked his face into her shoulder and tried to make himself smaller. He didn't know why. Someone yelled at them, and she shouldered through a heavy metal door, then another. There was more shouting and then she stumbled outside.

“You think you can make it down a ladder with one arm?”

“Yeah?”

“Good. Let's lose these motherfuckers.”

They ran and ran down the street until she suddenly stopped at a hatch in the sidewalk. Prying it open she told him it was a maintenance tunnel, they went all over the city, old and new and layered. They could get home that way. She jumped in at the sound of an engine, ignoring the ladder completely.

“Quickly, down just enough to close the hatch and then jump, I'll catch you!” He followed her instructions, holding onto the bar of the closed trap door before letting his feet dangle and falling. She caught him. They set off running. Every once in a while Dick heard her muttering to herself over the pounding of their feet.

_ “Cussing ‘round the twerp doesn’t make me like your dad Rhonie, lighten up.” _

“Who’s Rhonie?” They looked over their shoulder at him with a frown.

“Rhonda.”

“Why are you talking to yourself like that?”

“I’m not. I’m Parker. Rhonda hasn’t been out since the owl showed up.”

“What?”

“We can talk about it when we’re back at the apartment, alright?” Dick lost track of the tunnels Parker lead him through until they went up another ladder and climbed out in front of the restaurant. He grabbed him by his good arm and pulled him through the back all the way to the kitchen upstairs before stopping. They breathed heavily for a moment. Dick watched warily as Parker paced around the table, headband around his wrist and hands in his hair, staring up at the cracked ceiling. He couldn’t understand how this wasn’t Rhonda. She looked the same, except for the jacket around her waist.

“Rhonda?” he asked quietly.

“Parker.” They continued pacing, muttering to themselves. They stopped suddenly and stared at him. Dick didn’t know what to do.

“I’m not Rhonda.” Dick nodded. He didn’t know what else to do. “She’s here, just not piloting right now. I’m the fighter, not her.” He continued to nod. “We have Dissociative Identity Disorder, same as the boss. That’s why I got us here. No one but the gang Dent’s in charge of is willing to accommodate for a street kid like us.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Dick stammered.

“There’s two of us in here, Me, and then Rhonda. I’m the older one, I’m a guy, I’m the one who got us here. Her parents fucked her up so I ran away because she was too scared to. Now we’re here, and you’re here, and you know.” Dick looked at the fridge.

“So… you’re the roommate?” he asked quietly. Parker laughed, and it startled him.

“Yeah. Permanent residence up here,” the boy tapped his head. Dick was too scared to laugh. “You should get some sleep. You’re safe now. Bat’s never seen where we live. He won’t know to look for you here.” Dick backed up until he was at the door. It pushed open when his back hit it. He closed the door in front of him and lay on the mattress. His mind reeled. The owl. The clinic. Running. Parker. He didn’t know what was happening anymore. He wanted to go home. He squeezed his stuffed elephant to his chest. He cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are really motivating, so if you like this story or have any thoughts please tell me!


	3. The Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got an encouraging comment and it powered the next chapter here it is

They wouldn't stop hitting the ground. They wouldn't stop screaming. He wouldn't stop screaming. All he could smell was blood and all he could hear was wailing, red and blue and so much red only red pooling in the dirt soaking into his knees the cracking the snapping the falling.

It wouldn't stop. He couldn't make it stop. He woke up screaming into a mass of brown curls.

“Shhhh, shhhh, you're okay, you're okay Dick it's alright.” He gasped for air, coming back into himself.

He was being hugged. Pulled into a lap. Rocked.

“It's Rhonda, you're at the apartment, no one's found you,” she continued in her low soothing voice. He sobbed into her shoulder and pressed closer. She held him tight, carding her fingers through his hair, rocking slowly, softly singing a wordless melody until he had cried himself quiet. She thought he had fallen back to sleep until he spoke up.

“I saw them there. I could have said something. They’d be here if I had just _said_ _something_.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“But I didn’t say anything!”

“And how else would Zucco have hurt them during another performance if you did say something? They would have found a way no matter how much you knew or said.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“You prove it. Somehow. Make sure its investigated. Be the reason he’s locked up.”

“How?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know.”

That following night Dick didn’t go out with her. She came back with a bottle of low dose painkillers from the clinic that Dr. Leslie had intended to give him for the injury, and a story about the Bat.

“He’s looking for you now. Apparently no one else knows you ran away from the orphanage. Or no one  _ did _ , until now. Mom won’t tell though. She isn’t sure where I live.”

“Why do you call the doctor your mom if she isn’t?”

“I was born there. My parents couldn’t afford to go to a hospital.”

“Oh.” He swung his legs, feet not banging into the drawers underneath the counter because the doors were off, and they were empty. He watched Rhonda wash her and pull down a plastic basket from a shelf. She set it down next to him and wet a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol.

“This’ll probably sting.”

“Okay.” He leaned his neck away while she dabbed at the sutures, scrunching up his face when it started to hurt.

“If you get an infection I’ll have to take you back there, and the Bat might see us.” He nodded. He didn’t want that to happen. She applied antibiotic ointment and taped squares of gauze over each puncture. “That should do it. In about a week I can take out the stitches. She wrote me instructions to do it myself and what to use and how to sterilize things before I use them.”

“Okay.” He sat silently while she put the first aid kit back onto the shelf. She saw him yawn and chuckled. “I think it’s time we go to bed, huh?” He nodded. She grinned mischievously and picked him up, tossing him over her shoulder like a sack. He giggled all the way into the bedroom, pushing the door closed behind her. Rhonda sat on the mattress, and he flung himself forward to she toppled onto her back, the two a pile of giggles on the blankets.

Eventually they settled down to sleep. It wasn’t like sleeping with his parents, but Dick was just glad to not have to be alone.

 

The days passed on a low profile. Neither of them left the building, staying in the kitchen and the apartment. Rhonda taught him how to cook with her, and sometimes he would help by doing dishes. The old woman didn’t talk to him, only Rhonda (and Parker, the day he was out), to tell her what they would have on the menu that day and if Dent’s people would be having a meeting later. Dick didn’t mind, he was just glad that she didn’t seem to mind him either. It was nearly two weeks when Parker decided he was healed enough for the stitches to be removed. 

Dick sat on the fridge, looking down at the pan of boiling water with the clippers and tweezers in it.

“Why are you up there?”

“I dunno.” He and Parker stared at one another until the other boy nodded.

“A’right.” He set out some paper towels and quickly plucked the instruments from the water.

“That’s not safe!” Parker stared at them for a moment.

“How the fuck else was I gonna do it?”

“The hole-bowl! Where pasta goes!”

“The strainer isn’t sterilized, I think I’d have to just boil shit over again if they touched.” He paused for a moment. “What do you mean that doesn’t make any sense? Cleaning these with soap and water isn’t sterilizing, I’m sure something would get fucked up even if the strainer was cleaned first!” He paused again. “I don’t know the difference between soaping and sterilizing,” he exclaimed, throwing up his arms and pacing tight circles around the kitchen, “I’m just doin’ what the Doc told ya’ ta’ do! It’s not like I burned your fingers off!” Dick hopped off the fridge and onto the opposite counter while the two argued. Eventually Parker huffed and wiped the heads of the utensils with rubbing alcohol. The two then proceeded to argue about the point of boiling something if they were just going to do that as well. “I’m done talking to you about this,” he declared eventually, disinfecting the areas of skin. “There’ll be tugging but you’ll be fine,” he told Dick, who nodded. “And then you should avoid moving it much so they have less chance to reopen, because I don’t know what to do if that happens.”

“I’ll be careful.” Parker looked him in the face.

“Your hangout spot is on top of the fridge.”

“Yeah?”

“That’s not really…” he shook his head with a sigh, “Nevermind.” Parker took ten minutes to remove all the sutures and re bandage him. “No oozing, I think you’re in the clear for now Dickie.”

“Woohoo!” the boy cheered, raising only his other arm. Parker chuckled.

 

The Bat found them that same night.

 

Neither of them could understand how. None of Parker’s improvised weapons or knives phased him, and he had to handcuff Dick to get him into the car.

Neither of them slept that night. They didn’t show up to the kitchen, either. They followed the car to the police station, they followed the car that took Dick back to the orphanage the next morning, they stayed on the roof across the street, waiting, watching.

By evening their time had paid off more horrifically than even Parker’s mind could imagine. Dick left with a young couple, his case worker waving cheerfully from the doorway as the sedan left the parking lot. They’d adopted him.

They never thought they would run to the police station, but it was all they could do. It was just dark enough for the light to work.

“YOU DENSE MOTHERFUCKER,” Parker shrieked, storming at the Bat when he landed. “THEY PAID OFF HIS CASE WORKER!” They saw the lenses of the man’s mask widen. “He’s going to die now because of you.”


	4. The Meeting of Sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its late as FUCK plz COMMENT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all: whats with the COUPLE? what they DOIN?  
> me, tapping my fingers together like a scheming villain: :)

He didn’t know what was happening. He was adopted, somehow. He didn’t know them, they never met him, he didn’t think this was how adoption was supposed to work. It didn’t matter. He was in the car. They were taking him home. He thought, staring out the window.

It would be easier to run away from a family than the orphanage the second time, probably, but he wouldn’t know where to go. Batman had found him at the only safe place he had, he’d only get caught again. He couldn’t go to Haly’s because they would look there first, it made the most sense. He would have to get out of Gotham, hop a freight to Metropolis or somewhere further and wait for another circus to visit. Maybe he could find the one his mom had grown up in, maybe people there would still remember her from before her family retired to send her to school. 

Paranoid. That’s what his dad had always called her. She was right though, and everything she had taught him to do to escape the system was relevant. Worse case scenario rang true. He’d done everything she told him to to stay safe, but to no avail. Brooklyn CPS hadn’t had a Batman on their side, he supposed.

The Mareli’s pulled into the driveway of a small brick four-square. The tree in the backyard looked promising, Dick thought as he was led inside, though he wasn’t afraid of jumping straight to the ground if he had to. He knew how to land. A sharp pain split through the back of his head.

 

“You need to stay here,” the man growled.

“You’re a fucking dumbass if you honestly think I’m not coming with you,” Parker spat, twisting their still too-small body behind the Bat and opening the passenger side door enough to slip through. Batman went to open the door but Parker had already managed to find and click down the lock. “Y’ain’t gettin’ rid of me, bitch!” came the boys muffled yell. Batman didn’t have time to deal with this.

“Agent A,” he stated, calling Alfred over the comm when he started the car, “I need you to track this license plate number and send me its current location.”

“You have a passenger, I presume?”

“Yes.” Parker let out a sharp, self-satisfied laugh.

“I will get back to you shortly.”

“Thank you.” He drove, despite not knowing the exact location, in the direction of the Maroni family’s territory. “Why are you coming with me?” He asked the child sitting next to him. “You must know it will be dangerous.”

“ _ We’re _ the ones who have been looking out for him this whole time, if you’re the only one there trying to help him he’ll just run away and you’ll make it all worse. Dick wouldn’t even be in this situation if it wasn’t for you.” Parker retorted. That last point was one Bruce was already greatly aware of.

“Who is ‘we’?”

“She works at one of Dent’s fronts, who do you  _ think _ ‘we’ is?” The man quietly kept his eyes on the road for a moment before speaking up again.

“Are you an alter then?” 

“Your focus should be on Dick.”

“It is.”

“Then quit bothering me.”

“You’re the one who insisted on joining me.”

“You’re the one who may be getting my friend killed right now.”

They fell silent again, broken only by Alfred’s report of the location of the Parker had seen take Dick away. Bruce punched the gas. Parker gripped the sides of the seat.

“ _ You drive like a fucking lunatic _ ,” he hissed once they finally stopped.

“It’s a perk,” the man replied wryly.

 

The first thing Dick noticed was how his head throbbed. Dull, then sharp, all in waves. His vision was hazy when he opened his eyes. The light hurt. He was tied to a chair, legs bound and his hands pulled behind him with zip ties cutting into his wrists.

“Brat’s awake, Boss,” a man said. Someone took a fistfull of his hair and yanked his head up so he would look at them. 

“You’ve been a hard end to tie, kid,” the man sneered before dropping his head. “But things don’t always go as planned in the business.” Dick looked around. He was in an unfinished basement. Men with guns stood at the door. Zucco grabbed a glass bottle from the table in the corner. “I feel sorry for you, really, if the old man had just done as we asked… well, everyone knows how Gotham is  _ accident _ prone.”

“ _ Murder _ isn’t an accident,” Dick snarled. The man tutted and shook his head, standing in front of him. He motioned to one of the other men, who walked up behind Dick and gagged him.

“Ideas like that are exactly what gets people like you  _ hurt _ ,” Zucco said cooly, pouring a splash of the bottle’s contents onto Dick’s leg. No cloth would have been enough to fully muffle the boy’s scream as the acid ate through his flesh. “Amazing how much damage a little liquid can do,” the mobster sneered. “But clearly it wasn’t  _ enough _ ,” he punctuated the word by pouring it down the boy’s back. The man still managed to hear thuds from the floor above. Once he did, it was already too late. They had toyed too long. The man left behind to shoot the boy missed when the door was broken down. Parker cut through the bindings while the Bat dealt with him, trying to dab at his injuries with the rag from his mouth, trying to be any comfort at all. He sucked at comfort. Rhonda was the only one remotely any good at comfort. He couldn’t hear her.

“I radiod the police, an ambulance is on its way.”

“And what are they gonna do, huh?! Zucco’s gone!”

“I’ll catch him another time. Right now we need to make sure he’ll be okay.” For once, the kid didn’t argue with him. They followed the paramedics when they took Dick to the ambulance, booting an officer in the crotch when he tried to take them in.

“Leave the kid alone, Bullock.” Batman growled, stepping between the detective and the direction Parker had run off in. 

“Brat’s wanted for street fighting, add assaulting an officer, what, you working with street punks now?”

“They’re the one who alerted me to the fact that one of  _ your _ CPS agents  _ sold  _ Richard Grayson to be  _ killed _ . That ‘brat’ saved his life, and I think you’re going to have a more pressing case on your hands.” The man huffed cigar smoke into his face and stormed away.

 

Bruce wasn’t sure why he was sitting where he was, in an uncomfortable chair at the bedside of a boy who could do nothing but sleep. He checked his watch. It was nearly one in the afternoon. He hadn’t slept. The moment he had gotten back to the cave he had spent the night and early morning compiling evidence against Dick’s caseworker, proof that she had been bribed, that she had been obstructing paperwork he had been repeatedly sending in all month, that she had neglected to follow up with Richard to such an extent that he was never reported missing the whole month after he had run away from the orphanage. He should be at the office, or sleeping at the very least, but he wasn’t. He was in an uncomfortable chair at the bedside of a boy who could do nothing but sleep. He saw movement at the room’s window and looked up to see a familiar face. He had never caught their name. They crept into the room, looking at Bruce warily. They wore a backpack. He wondered which one of them it was. Bruce noticed the boy’s breathing change after the door snapped shut. They walked up to the bed on the opposite side, closer to the door and pulled a worn stuffed elephant out of the bag, tenderly lifting the sheets and placing it at Dick’s chest. He opened his eyes enough to squint at her. It was the first time Bruce had seen him awake since he had gotten there.

“Rhonda?” Dick asked in a small voice. She smiled softly.

“Hey. I brought Sitka, thought you’d want her.” Dick slowly wrapped his arms around the stuffed animal and rested his chin on its plush head.

“Thanks.” She nodded.

“You should get back to sleep.” He frowned.

“Will you stay?” Rhonda laughed softly.

“Visitation time is limited, so I might not be here when you wake up.”

“Oh.”

“You’ll be safe though. You know where to find me if you need to, anyway.” They both grinned.

“Yeah.” Bruce sat and watched. It didn’t take long for Dick to drift back to sleep. With Rhonda sitting on the other side of the bed, avoiding looking at him, he studied her, looking for tells as to if she was the one from the other night or not. She sat forward, with her elbows on her knees and her mouth pressed against her folded hands. He noted the bangs and the jacket, comparing then to other times he had seen her along the roofs. Last night had been the only time she had her hair completely up or tied the jacket around her waist. She hadn't seemed nearly as tender with Dick when they had found him, either. Bruce wondered if Rhonda was ‘host’, since Dick had known her by name, or another alter.

“Why are you here?” she asked, not looking at him. He didn’t know how he should answer. He sighed, and she looked him in the eye. “You don’t do this every time a ‘street rat’ gets sent to the hospital.”

“I’ve been trying to adopt him.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.” She didn’t respond. “You?”

“I haven't checked recently,” she said nonchalantly. “I think I’m fourteen.”

“You don’t know?”

“You and Harvey Dent were friends, right?” He nodded, trying not to let on that he already knew what she was going to tell him. “We have the same problem. Don’t have a great sense of time, and we’re different ages, so I forget which one is actually true.” He let the subject end there.

“How do you know Richard?”

“He was living with me until the Bat shoved him back into CPS, like he didn’t have a  _ reason _ for running away.” Her tone wasn’t nearly as biting. This wasn’t the same kid as last night.

“His case worker was arrested this morning,” he stated.

“Doesn’t mean they’ll lock her up.” Bruce decided not to argue that. “What do you want to adopt him for?” He was quiet for a moment. She was looking at him again.

“I was there when his parents fell. I want to help him.” A small huff of laughter escaped the girl’s mouth.

“It’d be easier to run your own branch of CPS for kids with murdered parents.” He raised his eyebrows.

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She laughed for real.

“Not that you  _ shouldn’t  _ adopt him, but I think a program like that from you would probably be the only one anyone could trust.” He raised his eyebrows.

“You trust me?” She shrugged.

“I trust that you do your best for this place.”

“Thank you.”

When the nurse came in to tell them that visiting time was over they left, and he watched her disappear into the streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its 216 am im ded no beta we die like fucks lets get this bitch in the oven haaa  
> I have tumblr btw smallest-turtle is my main and i have a side for writing and art called smallest-letters if you guys wanna drop by. feel free to ask me about stuff on there or yell at me about my crimes against your emotions ;)


	5. The Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce brings the boy home and looks into the elusive Mary Grayson's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im fucking tired y'all  
> have fun learning about Mary. Bruce sure didn't.

Dick saw a lot of people while he was in the hospital. Rhonda was the only one he really welcomed. Mr. Wayne came often as well, more so since Rhonda needed to be in the kitchen and visiting times didn't really align with when she was off. Then there were the police. It took him being sold and almost murdered for them to take his parents death as anything but an accident, but Gordon seemed nice. The new lady who had been given his case did too. She snuck him a piece of chocolate the day she met him and talked about why he had run away. She said she wasn't mad at him. She said that some kids tend to run away repeatedly no matter where they are put because it's the only way they can exert control onto their situation. He told her that wasn't his case. He was just doing what his mom had told him to do. When Ms. Ramirez visited a second time she told him that Bruce Wayne had been trying to adopt him ever since the incident, and that if Dick liked, he could go home with him when he was discharged from the hospital instead of being sent back to the orphanage. Dick didn't want to go back to the orphanage. He said yes.

 

Bruce didn't know what he was getting himself into. He knew that. He was sharply aware of it. But he was also sharply aware of the fact that Richard Grayson needed help. He had read Alfred’s books on child psychology, parenting books Dr. Leslie had recommended to him, taken notes on personal calls with James Gordon regarding the subject since his own daughter was only slightly older than the boy; Bruce Wayne could spend the rest of his life researching and preparing for bringing a child to the manor, but time did not work that way. 

He glanced in the rearview mirror, head angled so that he could see the boy in the backseat. Richard fiddled idly with the rubix cube Ms. Ramirez had given him. Bruce watched in interest as the nine-year-old solved it and mixed it up again. He wasn’t sure if he should congratulate him or not. He decided not to interrupt the silence. Richard solved the cube several times before they rolled onto the manor grounds. Neither of them spoke the whole way.

Bruce parked the car in the front, figuring he could put it in the garage later. Richard followed him, backpack hugged tight to his chest. He seemed intimidated by the expansive limestone building, and Bruce could only hope that he would grow accustomed to it. 

Alfred stood in the entry hall to greet them.

“Richard, this is Alfred, the man I told you about.”

“Hello,” the boy said quietly. 

“Hello master Richard, shall we show you to your room?” The boy nodded, and followed the older man up the polished wooden staircase. Bruce tailed behind, watching Richard. The bedroom was close to his own, in case anything happened; though he probably wouldn’t be there if anything did. The false bottom of the right nightstands drawer had a monitor in it that could be turned on while he or Alfred were in the cave. They would hear anything that happened. Richard stopped abruptly in the doorway. Bruce pursed his lips. After a beat, he decided to speak up.

“Your parents trailer is in storage, if you ever need it when you’re older. Alfred and I thought that you might want to keep some things with you, that couldn’t fit in your bag.” He heard the boy sniffle, which was not a reaction he was prepared for. “Are you alright?”

“Thanks.” The word is hardly audible. Richard walks further into the room, and he and Alfred stay near the door to give him space. Richard put his backpack on the floor next to the nightstand and felt the knit blankets piled up at the foot of the bed as if to confirm to himself that they were real. Bruce sighed to himself. He had been in contact with Mr. Haley. Mary had been an incredibly self-sufficient person, able to fix or reuse just about anything she came across. Their quilt was under construction whenever there were enough old clothes to make a new row of scrap filled squares, and she was a skilled knitter as well. No visiting act left Hally’s without something she had made or a trailer part she had fixed. The ringmaster had instructed them to find the baby blanket she had sewn for him, especially. 

Bruce watched as Richard felt the embroidered bird,  _ Robin _ done in elegant script. 

“We will  leave you to get adjusted to your new room,” Alfred stated, prompting the young man to follow him out to the hallway. 

“I hope he doesn’t think of it as a breach of privacy.”

“He is free to feel so if he wishes, master Bruce, but I am sure that this is preferable to how much more alienating it would be otherwise.” Bruce nodded. “What will you be doing now?”

“I think I’ll look into some things in the cave.” Alfred had expected as much. 

“I would suggest you make time for lunch, it would not make a good impression on the boy to leave him to eat alone.”

“I’ll keep an eye on the time, Alfred, don’t worry.”

 

Down in the cave the man finally followed something intriguing that Ms. Ramirez had mentioned. 

“Why would you tell him to run away…” he muttered to himself. The leads he had to building Mary’s past were slim to none, and dropped to nix around the time she was 13. She didn’t reappear in any sort of timeline until she was listed with her not-yet husband in an advertisement at 20, a new addition to Haly’s Circus. John was simple. The Graysons had been involved in the circus since it had begun. He was born, homeschooled, and married there; grew up and died beneath the same big top and that was that.

Mary, as far as Bruce could tell, had also grown up in the circus. A different one, which had closed down when she would have been about 18. But no posters or advertisements in any papers Bruce could find mentioned the Badi family up to that point. He assumed they left the when she was 13, judging by the last year their aerial stunts were listed with the other acts.

Bruce leaned back in the large chair and pressed his palms hard into his eyes with a sigh. “Why tell him to run,” he muttered again, staring up into the dark. It would have been a general instruction, if anything were to happen. There was no way it was something she had told him specific to Gotham, where it would, as much as he hated to admit, honestly be better in most cases than being put into the system. But how would she know?

Bruce disliked making assumptions, and while it would make sense with her lack of paper trail, he refused to just  _ assume _ that Richard’s mother had, at some point in her teens, been living on the streets. 

He got up from the chair and began pacing around. He needed to understand why Richard had run away from Child Protective Services, either because he was afraid he would do something to prompt Richard to run away again, or because he had the obsessive need to  _ know _ regardless, Bruce wasn’t sure. Either way, he concluded, it didn’t really matter. If Richard had ran away because it was something his mother had told him to do, Bruce needed to know  _ why _ , and  _ what the parameters were to those instructions _ .

Asking the boy was an option, but in a way it also was not. He shouldn’t have to be made to talk about his parents, especially so soon, and especially not with someone who was basically still a stranger to him. 

Bruce sat back down and, on a whim, put a newspaper photo of Mary age 12 from a review of her family’s act through facial recognition of any files the computer could find along the east coast and cities the former circus ran through.

It was going to take a while.

 

Lunch was awkward and quiet. Despite being told he was free to call them by their first names, Richard continued to call them Mr. Wayne and Mister Alfred. Bruce hoped he would grow out of it when he felt more familiar with them both. 

By the time he was back in the cave the computer had done its digging, and as Bruce sifted through old photos he had already seen and security footage he would look into later, a file from Brooklyn CPS that had to be hacked from the network and unencrypted caught his eye. 

He seethed. 

Her parents never could have afforded the legal battle it would have taken to get her back, and that’s exactly why she had been taken away. Bruce put his head in his hands. False charges of child neglect just to add another kids-worth of federal money to line their pockets. It made him sick.

Mary had every reason to tell Richard what she had.  


	6. The Waterfall

Everything was large and empty. The bedroom he had been given was bigger than the space he had grown up in, and worse, it was quiet. He squeezed Sitka against his chest. He had bunched up all the blankets and pillow around him, but it didn’t make the bed feel smaller. They only served to remind him that he was the only one there.

 

Dick kept himself occupied the next day by following Alfred around the manor. He wandered around the halls while the butler dusted and refused the boys offers to help, and then climbed trees while the man did yard work in the garden.

“Are you playing a game?” Alfred asked, looking up at the boy who had made a startling leap from one tree to the branch of another.

“I wanna see how far I can get using just trees.”

“Mind your safety,” Alfred advised.

“I’m not going to fall.”

“That may be true, but swinging like that can tear your stitches.”

Bruce watched from his office as Richard hung from his legs with his arms crossed. The man closed the program with a sigh and stared at the reflection of the skyline on his monitor. The intercom buzzed.

“Mr. Wayne?”

“Yes?”

“Selina Kyle is here for you.”

“I’ll be right down.” He had almost forgotten about their lunch date. 

“You’re late,” the woman teased when he got down to the lobby. 

“Oh how will I  _ ever _ repay you?” he smirked.

“Well, buying me lunch is a start.” She tugged him down by his tie and kissed his cheek. He shook his head and let out a soft chuckle, wiping the spot with his palm. Noticing this, she laughed, her teeth bright behind the deep red she wore. “It’s a liquid lip, Bruce, it’s not going anywhere.”

“Good.” He drove them to the place he remembered her saying had ‘ _ the Best salmon’ _ figuring it would appease her. He figured correctly.

“So, you’ve been rather busy lately.” He couldn’t help but agree.  “Seeing how long you can keep him a secret?”

“He doesn’t need the kind of attention that would bring,” Bruce sighed. “Once the trials are over I’m hoping he’ll be out of the public eye completely.”

“And how is he taking it?”

“I’m not sure. I hope he’s still adjusting but… I don’t know how much longer I should wait before I start worrying.”

“You look like you’re already worrying.”

“Well…” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Yes… I am. Damn it Selina he won’t even call me  _ Bruce _ , he calls Alfred ‘Mister’! I don’t know how to make him feel comfortable around us.”

“I’m sure it would help if he had some friends.”

“I know… He has  _ one _ , a kid who works at the Polish front Dent controls, but I’m not sure how to go about that.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of the Commissioner's kid,” Selina laughed.

“Oh.” A thoughtful look dawned on his face. “That’s a good idea.”

“Had that really not occurred to you?”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind lately,” he said defensively. 

“Still,” she giggled, “You’re so silly sometimes.” She reached out and booped his nose. He raised his eyebrows at her.

“ _ You’ve _ been spending too much tie with someone lately,” he observed. Selina shrugged innocently.

“Well  _ he’s _ in Arkham; girls’ nights have been more frequent lately.”

“Just stay out of trouble, alright?” She scrunched up her face.

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“No, but I am your boyfriend, and you’d  _ hate _ to  _ worry _ me.”

“Of course darling, how could I overlook such a thing?”  They shared knowing, mischievous grins. “Maybe you could take a night off,” she suggested eventually. “We could have dinner, the three of us, spent some time in… You could get some proper sleep for once.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion that your plans would  _ prevent  _ us from getting any sleep.” he said lowly.

“Maybe later, if you behave,” she whispered with a wink.  _ That _ comment finally cracked him, and she reveled in her victory as she watched his face turn red.

 

“When do you think I should come to dinner?” she asked before she got into her own car. He checked his watch.

“Tonight would be putting Alfred on the spot by now, how about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow it is.”

 

When Selina arrived, Dick was nowhere to be seen.

“I could’ve sworn he was just out here… I’ll check the kitchen, he might be with Alfred.” Bruce shot her an apologetic smile. 

“I’ll still be here,” the woman chuckled. It wasn’t long after Bruce was out of sight that she noticed the boy peeking around the corner of the hall  through the second floor banister. “You can come down here, I won’t bite,” she called. Dick walked over to the railing, but didn’t come any closer to the stairs. “I’m Selina, did Bruce tell you I was coming?”  The boy hopped onto the banister and swung his legs idly, hands in his lap.

“Yeah, he told me.”

“He thinks you’re in the kitchen. You should come down from there before he sees you doing that.”

“Why?”

“It isn’t safe to be up there like that, it’s a long drop.” By now she could hear Bruce’s footsteps approaching. 

“I’m an  _ acrobat _ ,” the boy retorted, “ I  _ know  _ how to  _ fall _ .” The footsteps sped up.

“What in the world,” the man exclaimed quietly. They both heard him, and Selina could only describe the look on Dick’s face as sour.

“Dick!” Bruce yelled as the boy jumped from the banister. Selina grabbed his arm to keep him from rushing to catch the boy, who ducked into a near-silent roll and stood in front of them just as swiftly. 

“ _ I’m  _ **_fine_ ** .” 

“That is not ‘fine’,” Bruce replied sternly, “It was dangerous, and that kind of behavior will not stand.”

“Dangerous for  _ you _ maybe,” Dick muttered, glaring at the floor.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not  _ dangerous _ when I’ve done it my  _ whole life _ !” he screamed, storming off before anything else could be said. 

Bruce stood there with his face in his hands. Selina patted him on the shoulder.

“Well then,” Alfred started, alerting them to his presence in the hall, “I believe that has been building up for some time now.”

“Now what do I do?”

“Wait for him to calm down, I suppose.” Selina squeezed Bruce’s shoulder.

“Maybe you could tell me more about him in the meantime?” she asked. They couldn’t speak too freely in public, just in case. There were still things he hadn’t told her about. Bruce welcomed the distraction.

 

Dick didn’t know what to do now. Mr. Wayne was angry with him, and he was going to be in trouble. He didn’t know what that would mean, but if he stayed outside long enough, maybe he could avoid it for longer. The sun hadn’t gone down yet, so he could still see as he ran through the woods that took up part of the estate. He ran for a long time. It always took a lot to tire him out, and he hadn’t been getting as much exercise as he was used to since… well, there was nothing to practice for. No routines to go through. He was done. Eventually he began to hear running water and, curious, slowed to a jog. Following the sound, he found the source. There was a waterfall. Dick wasn’t sure if he was still on the property or not, but he tried not to think about it. He was climbing up the rocks near the waterfall for fun when he realized there was a space behind the water. Excited at the possibility of exploring, he sought out holds in the wall so he could get behind it in a way that avoided the slippery rocks, and hopefully getting drenched, all together. He giggled cheerfully when he succeeded. The waterfall was so much louder from the mouth of the cave. He wondered how far back it went. It was harder to see in the dark, but the floor of the cave seemed smooth. There wasn’t anything for him to chance tripping on. It went further than he thought it would. 

Then things got weird.

Dick saw the glow of electric lighting breaking up the darkness. He paused for a moment, but curiosity won out over apprehension, and he quietly pushed on. When the tunnel opened up to a large cavern he froze entirely. The first thing he laid eyes on was the car. He knew that car. Been an unwilling passenger of it not even two weeks ago. He looked around quickly, but Batman didn’t seem to be there. Now he  _ really _ wondered if he was still on the property.  Did Mr. Wayne know? Or…maybe.... 

Dick moved forward, careful not to touch anything. He needed to get out of there before the man showed up, but he didn’t think he would be able to get out the same way he got in. He had jumped in past the wet rocks, and he wouldn’t have the vantage point to climb the wall on the way out. He didn’t want to risk slipping and getting stuck under the force of the waterfall….

He had to find a different way out. 

Luckily, he found a staircase that was carved into the rock, leading up. Figuring it would let him out at the top of the hill or something, he went up. He just hoped Batman wouldn’t catch him on his own way down. When he got to the door without incident he pushed it open slowly, making sure it stayed quiet. 

Dick wasn’t sure what he had expected to be on the other side of the door. Maybe a garden shed, or an old bunker that would lead outside, or one of the utility tunnels Rhonda frequented, though one of those running all the way out there seemed unlikely. 

Suddenly being in Mr. Wayne’s office had not been in the equation. 

Being in Mr. Wayne’s office while the man in question was in there was out of the question. 

Yet that was Dick’s position. The man looked like he’d never been so shocked in his life, and the whole situation was aptly subbed up by the utterance of his girlfriend.

“Oh no.”

Dick slammed the door shut and leapt down the uneven stairs, trying to get a head start. 

“So much for not running into Batman,” Dick muttered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!  
> Reminder that I post to my writing blog smallest-letters on tumblr, with snippets of wips like this one and general teaser posts for where this narrative is going under the Finding Family tag.  
> You're welcome to chat with me there as well!


	7. The Cute One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i dont have a title

Selina followed Bruce down to the cave as the man chased after Dick. As the man went on through the tunnel she stopped. 

“He’s gone,” she called out. “I won’t tell him you’re here.” Silence. “You’re not in trouble.” Nothing. “Pinky swear?” As she began to suspect she was getting nowhere a small arm poked out from under the car, pinky out. She chuckled quietly, walking over and kneeling down to seal the promise. The boy rolled out into the light with surprising ease. “So this has been an interesting day for the two of you, huh?” she asked with a smile. Dick sat cross legged on the floor and nodded.

“Are you sure he won’t be mad?”

“I’ll make sure. How did you get down here, anyway?”

“I found a cave under a waterfall and went exploring.” Selina laughed.

“That’s how Bruce found the caves too, around your age.” She stopped when her cell began to ring. She pulled it out of her pocket and put a finger to her lips.

“Hello?”

“ _ I can’t find him Selina! _ ”

“Well I checked through the cave and he’s not here, so he definitely went your way.”

“ _ How am I even going to explain this?! _ ”

“I don’t know detective, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out by the time you find him.”

“ _ What if I don’t find him?! _ ”

“You’re Batman and he’s nine, sweetie.”

“ _ He isn’t exactly the most predictable child I know _ ,” he replied gruffly. She chuckled.

“Only you would manage to adopt the one kid in Gotham who can outrun you.” Bruce sighed.

“ _ Call you back when I find him _ .”

“Okay.” She hung up and put her phone on the floor. “So, do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“This,” she said, gesturing around them, “maybe about that outburst you had earlier?” Dick looked down, fussing with the hem of his shirt. “Is it because you can’t do anything your used to without being yelled at?” He nodded.

“I’m not a little kid, I know how to do things safely, even if I did fall I know how to land without hurting myself!”

“You  _ are _ a kid though, and kids get hurt doing things they think they can pull off and then don’t. They just can’t tell where that line is for you yet.”

“I don’t like being yelled at for it though.”

“Of course you don’t, they just don’t understand yet.” Dick still wasn’t looking at her. “Anything else on your mind?”

“So… he really is Batman then?”

“Yeah. He is.” Dick continued to fiddle with his shirt. “Anything else?”

“Why did he adopt me?” Selina was thrown for a loop.

“Well, I’m not really the one of us you should be asking about that, am I?” The boy didn’t reply. She frowned. “Why are you asking?”

“I only got sold to Zucco because he took me back to the orphanage.” She looked up to see Alfred’s shadow in the stairwell.

“And what do you think that means?” There was a long pause.

“He just feels guilty.”

“Oh no,” Selina said softly, pulling him into a hug as he started to sniffle. “That’s not what happened at all. He was trying to adopt you the moment he found out they weren’t letting you stay at the circus, Dick. He  _ does _ feel guilty about what happened to you, you aren’t wrong about that, but he didn’t adopt you just to make himself feel better. He saw the opportunity to help a kid who went through the same trauma he did. Besides, he knows from  _ me _ how shitty Gotham’s system is.” Dick giggled. “What?”

“You said a bad word.” Selina couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Yes, I did say a bad word. Don’t tell Bruce.”

“I won’t.” She rested her chin on his head. “Are your parents dead too?”

“Yes. The woman in charge of the group home made us steal for her. Gotham’s been a bad place for kids for a long time.” They sat in silence for a while more before she spoke up again. “Do you want to go up to your room? I can text Bruce we found you and talked, if you don’t want to talk to him yet.” She felt Dick nod against her shoulder, and they stood up from the floor. “Maybe Alfred will let you have dinner in your room if you think it’d be too awkward.”

“Really?” he asked, holding her hand while they went up the uneven stairs. “Woah.”

She couldn’t help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plz comment


	8. The Nightmare

Bruce hadn’t fallen asleep. He watched the calm rise and fall of Selina’s breath beside him, trying to keep his mind off of what had happened. Dick hadn’t joined them for dinner, leaving Selina to discuss their conversation with him. Dick had been comfortable with Selina, opened up despite having barely met her. Was he doing something wrong? 

A muffled cry pulled him from his thoughts. Bruce sat up, listening carefully. He got out of bed when he heard another quieted sob. Creeping silently out into the hallway he carefully opened the door to Richard’s room. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, poking his head in. Realizing Dick was still asleep he walked over to the bed. He found his shoulder in the tangle of blankets and rested his hand on it carefully. “Dick?” The boy jerked awake, curling in on himself until he was just a tiny lump in the covers, his back to the man. Bruce sat carefully at the edge of the bed, unsure what to do. “Did you have a nightmare?” he asked quietly. The blankets seemed to nod. “Would you… like some water?” Dick seemed to think for a moment before nodding again. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” He patted the boy’s shoulder before getting up.  He made sure the water was as cold as it was going to get before filling the glass. When he returned Richard was sitting up, one of the quilts pulled over his head, bundled with Sitka close to his chest. Bruce sat back down on the bed, and he took the water.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked hesitantly. Dick shook his head. “Does this happen often?”

“Yeah,” he croaked. Bruce thought carefully.

“I had nightmares after my parents were killed.” He began to worry that wasn’t the right thing to say until Dick spoke again, seeming to shift closer to Bruce.

“Do they stop?”

“I don’t get them as much anymore, but they still happen.” Bruce panicked when his words started a fresh wave of tears.

“I don’t wanna see it anymore!” Bruce took the half empty glass of water form the boy’s shaking hands before he could drop it and placed it on the nightstand, freezing for a moment when Dick’s weight settled against his side. Bruce did some quick thinking and came to a realization. He mentally cursed himself for being such an idiot. Dick had to have grown up with constant physical affection and comfort, and that was the one area Bruce had been sorely lacking in. He repositioned himself so that he was laying down properly on the bed and wrapped his arm around the boy. Dick cuddled closer, resting his cheek on the man’s chest and bundling his shirt in his small fist. Bruce rubbed small circles into his back while the boy hiccupped, his eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t wanna see it anymore,” he repeated, voice small.

“I’m sorry.” Dick shifted until his whole body was pressed against Bruce’s side. The man kept still, half of him swamped by the bundle of blankets Dick had cocooned himself in. Bruce couldn’t understand how Dick managed to move at all. Eventually he felt Dick’s breathing calm as he tired himself out, and Bruce drifted off to sleep with him.

 

When Selina woke up to an empty bed she breathed out a low curse. Tossing off the covers she got up and stalked out into the hall, pausing suddenly when she saw the door to Dick’s bedroom open. She peaked in quietly, smiling with relief when she saw Bruce asleep.

So he hadn’t snuck out. 

She went back to Bruce’s room and got her phone. She wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to take a picture of the man cuddling with his ward for anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! You might have noticed that this work is now a part of a series!  
> Little history of this story, it started as me daydreaming about the extended universe and what exactly Dick would be up to and why he wasn't involving himself in anything that's going on with Bruce and the JL. So this is his backstory, and the next fic is What Dick Is Up To as well as the formation of the Teen Titans. They're gonna run along side one another just because I want to get these out before I run out of steam or something.  
> So check it out! Chapter two of it should be out soon! You guys have been great with feedback and inspiring me to keep writing it so I'd really appreciate your thoughts on this next part in Dick's life. Love you all! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment! Reader responses are very encouraging and motivate me to update lol.


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